Behold! A Spoof from the Castaways of the Flying Dutchman! I wrote this chapter a long time ago so sorry if you don't like it. Also, you can read along with the real book. This is a paragraph by paragraph spoof.

FYI: The Narrator and Author are real people in this spoof. They live in an invisible studio box in the sky. (Paid for by the Redwall company.)

Disclaimer I have great respect for this series. All characters are parodies of themselves. This is a joke! Don't like, don't flame!

Warning: Crude language.

Another Warning: This story will be updated infrequently.

Chapter one

Narrator: Two men sat facing each other in a comfortable room called a drinking den. (Which is just a fancy name for a place where people get drunk on business) Now one of these men is a Dutchman and if we use…(Narrator makes quotation marks with his fingers.) Context clues, we can assume this person is the Captain of the Flying Dutchman because he's a Dutchy and I just profile people that way. (Narrator takes a deep breath.)

Author: (Shakes head in back round.)

Narrator: Oh, and the other guy is some insignificant Chinese bloke taking a vacation in Scandinavia. Neither of them touched the gin on the table. ('Cause you know, probation.) Because TV's and football hadn't been invented yet, they both watched a small blue velvet packet.

Vanderdecken: Yarr, silk is up thirty-two points.

Gem dealer: What?

Vanderdecken: Yarr, never mind.

Gem dealer: Anyways…

Narrator: Gem dealer unravels the cloth. Behold, a large emerald that's for some reason called a dragon's eye, even though we haven't seen a dragon. Yet.

Gem dealer: I have an agent in Chile who has a package of priceless stones for me. I want you to go and get if for me. Can you do it?

Vanderdecken: Mmmmmmmm. Chile.

Gem dealer: Can you do it?

Vanderdecken: Gyarr. Of course I can. And I diffidently won't steal them while I'm at it.

Gem dealer: Good. Now as payment I'll just give you three gems instead of the whole package.

Vanderdecken: Five.

Gem dealer: Four.

Vanderdecken: Three take it or leave it.

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Narrator: The boy ran. Now perhaps he was running track. Or maybe he wanted to get in line for the eighth Harry Potter book. Or maybe… (Boy cuts him off.)

Boy: I'm being chased damn it! I lead an abusive life, I live in the cellar, and my three hulking stepbrothers who, by the way, haven't even let me read Sorcery's stone are chasing me.

Narrator: Quite! Your suppose to be a mute!

Boy: But I'm the main character! I have to be able to talk! I tell you I'm… (Narrator slaps a role of duct tape on his mouth.) Mpppphhhhh.

Narrator: Ahhhh, silence is golden.

Author: But duct tape is silver.

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Narrator: The next say, five paragraphs of the book are skipped.

Scar faced Burmese: Why?

Narrator and Author: Because you're unimportant!

SfB: But plot to murder the Captain!

Author: Yes, but our boss says to skip this part.

Me: Yea, it is impossible to make you funny.

SfB: Yea, well, your joke suck.

Me: Mr. SfB, I pay the Author (me), he writes the story, as in, your character and what happens to him. I suggest you shut up now.

SfB: …

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Narrator: Let's check on the Boy now. Oh, looks like he stuck on a wharf. (Turns to Author.) What's a wharf?

Author: (Rolls eyes.) Isn't there anything we can do for him?

Narrator: You're the writer, write something!

Author: Oh yea.

Narrator: Too late. He got pushed off the edge.

Author: But he was supposed to bite them first. Why didn't he bite him?

Narrator: Because I put duct tape around his mouth. Remember?

Author: Sucks to be him.

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Vanderdecken: Jah, set sail for horribledeathtrapcertaintodieevilplace!

Crew: Does its job.

Ship: Sails away.

Author: I feel like I've forgotten something.

Narrator: Um, the Boy?

Author: Damn it!

Narrator: Never mind, I'll get it. (Narrator opens the door and steps out of the invisible studio box in the sky and flicks a rope over the side.) There, problem solved.

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Narrator: Well, by now the Boy is half unconscious, half drowned, and numbed to the bone; so of course he finds the strength to climb the rope, find a ledge, and stay on it.

Boy: (Rips off duct tape) God that hurt! Well, since I can't read, I don't know that this ship is screwed.

Author: But the ship isn't cursed yet.

Narrator: I'll handle this. (Pulls out more duct tape)

Boy: No, I'll be quiet!

Narrator: (Sighs and puts it away.)

Boy: (Falls unconscious)

So, what do you think? The next chapter is funnier, I promise. Read and Review!

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